


Family Tradition

by BewareTheIdes15



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Rough Sex, Sibling Incest, Wall Sex, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-04
Updated: 2011-07-04
Packaged: 2017-10-21 00:20:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/218730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BewareTheIdes15/pseuds/BewareTheIdes15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam promised to do ANYTHING Dean wanted for his birthday - what Dean picked wasn't what Sam had in mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Family Tradition

Sam's leg bounced a nervous, staccato rhythm, upsetting the table and making their beers slosh restlessly in the bottles. Dean was too busy scoping out the crowd to notice.

Sam had been excited about his brother's birthday present when he'd come up with the idea - 'any one thing you want, no questions asked, name it and I'll do it'. He'd been prepared for a lot of things – ok, most of them sexual - and even ready to deal with the fact that he might not actually enjoy whatever it was Dean wanted. Still, the concept of finding out what Dean would choose if he knew that there would be no repercussions had made Sam too curious to resist.

Of course, he'd never considered that the thing his brother would want would be another person. True, another person plus Sam, but still, another person. Because apparently Sam wasn't enough for Dean anymore. Not that Sam had seen him fucking complaining. Mostly just screaming Sam's name so loud motel owners stared at them when they checked out. Ungrateful bastard.

The real thing that got to him - well, aside from the idea of some other fucker touching HIS personal Dean - was that this was a fear that had always nagged at him. It wasn't any kind of secret that Dean was more experienced than Sam - by orders of magnitude - and while Sam thought he had been pretty adventurous in their sex life, letting down his guard the way he never could have with anyone but his big brother, he’s always wondered if it would be enough for the older Winchester in the long run. Obviously, it wasn't. Sam felt physically ill.

And then to add insult to injury...

"That one," Dean said with an intensity usually reserved for 'we have to kill it' and 'fuck me now, Sammy'. He was pointing, none too subtly, toward the end of the bar.

"The redhead?" Sam sighed. It wasn't like he really cared who Dean picked for the threesome, but if he was expected to go over and seduce the damn girl into this - as if he had a clue how to do that - he sure as hell wanted it to be the right one.

"No, the blond," Dean indicated, pointing past the voluptuous redhead flirting with everything that walked by to a blond guy leaning over the bar behind her. A blond guy. Fuck.

Chalk that up to another one Sam hadn't thought of, and another big blow to the ego. It wasn’t like he didn’t know Dean sometimes went for guys – he was with Sam after all – but at least with a woman Sam knew exactly what she could give Dean that he couldn't; with a guy, well fuck, apparently there wasn't a damn thing about Sam that was good enough for his brother.

He chugged the remaining half of his beer, the contents rolling fitfully in his stomach and definitely not decreasing the likelihood that he was going to accidentally puke on his intended target. Dean gave him an encouraging grin as Sam stood up and his gut just clenched tighter. Why did he have to do this? Wasn't it enough that he was willing to go through with this for Dean? Did he really need to be the one who reeled in their third wheel too?

Then again, he thought, HE was probably the third wheel in this scenario, only involved so Dean wouldn't have to feel guilty later.

Sam took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders as if that held the magic art of the pick-up, and began making his way over to Dean's appointed prey. The thing was, he DIDN'T have to do this. He could tell Dean he didn't want to, that he couldn’t deal with it, and his brother would whine a little for effect but then he'd say 'ok, Sammy' and smile and pick something else for Sam to do instead. But Sam would always know; every time Dean casually flirted with somebody in a bar or to get information, he’d spend the rest of his life wondering if his brother was thinking about this, wanting this, and Sam couldn't live that way.

He slumped against the bar, immediately regretting it as his elbow landed in a puddle of unknown origin. Fucking great.

The blond Dean had picked out was next to him, amber eyes following the bartender as she poured up his drink. The guy was probably straight anyway, so this whole thing was just going to be pointless and embarrassing.

"Hey," Sam said wittily with a nod of his head.

"Hey," the blonde replied non-chalantly. So much for Sam's brilliant pick up technique. He wasn't even good at doing this with girls and he'd actually TRIED to pick up a girl before; except for Dean, he'd never even really thought about being attracted to men. Dean would probably already have the guy eating out of the palm of his hand - then again, Dean could probably seduce the jukebox if he put his mind to it.

"I'm Sam," he added after a slightly overextended pause.

"Brian," the other man replied. The bartender was finally back with Brian's drink - vodka tonic. Dean liked this guy? - and the blonde paid but then just continued to stand there like he was waiting for Sam to continue. The odds were like, really small that this guy was actually gay AND into him, right? Well, his brother was always trying to tell Sam he was hot, maybe... Nah. Brian probably just thought he was being friendly. Which was going to make this next bit even more awkward.

"So," Sam faltered for a second, scrubbing his fingers through his bangs "Are you here with somebody?"

"I could be," Brian smirked, and wow, ok, maybe Sam could see why Dean liked him, "if you're offering." Seriously, what were the odds that Dean would pick out probably the one gay guy in the whole damn town for Sam to hit on?! Maybe Dean was psychic too.

Sam hadn't exactly figured out how to link the 'are you single' part of the conversation to the 'want to go back to the motel and do obscene and physically improbable things with me and my brother?' part, so he just managed a half-laugh before standing there stupidly, staring at Brian’s loafer. Seriously, Dean wanted a guy in loafers?

"Um, so, I..." he stumbled. The blond just leaned in closer, resting his fingers over Sam’s wrist, "What I mean is..."

"Ready to go, honey?" was suddenly purred up close to Sam's ear, then Dean's arms were sliding around his waist, his lips pressing to the hollow behind Sam's jaw. Brian's eyes widened slightly as he watched the display, then his eyes roamed down Dean's body appreciatively. He was all smiles by the time he met Sam's eyes again. Fucking pervert.

"I was just," Sam stuttered, caught between a hot wave of jealousy from the way that guy had just looked at his brother, and a whole different kind of warmth from the way Dean was pressed in tight to his side. For some ridiculous reason, he felt like he'd just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, even though Dean was the one who'd pushed him into this in the first place.

"I'm going to have to steal him," Dean apologized to Brian with a smile. His fingertips slid just below the waistband of Sam's jeans possessively and Sam found himself quickly being led across the bar and out the back door, the disappointed blonde still staring after them.

The lot behind the bar was dark and dingy, lit only by a distant streetlamp and the hazy moon. The January air was cool against the back of his neck, but the rest of Sam was warm as his brother tugged him in close and began softly kissing his neck.

"What the hell, Dean?" was the first thing that spilled past the confusion in Sam's brain. He thought it was a very cogent expression of his current feelings. Dean chuckled into his neck.

"You really would have done it for me, wouldn't you?" Dean slowly pulled his head back, hips still molded in a perfect, hot coupling with Sam's that was doing absolute wonders for his dick. Dean’s green eyes were sparkling with mischief in the low light and the boiling black tar that had been sitting in the pit of Sam's stomach suddenly flared.

"It was a test!" he shouted, not caring that half the county could probably hear him, "You were fucking testing me!?"

Dean's smirk was almost identical to the one Brian had given him not too long ago as he got his fingers tangled up in Sam’s hair.

"Sammy, I do not play well with others. You really think I'd share you?"

The cool air was burning in Sam's lungs as he took in shallow pants that didn't seem to be delivering enough oxygen to his brain. He shoved hard at Dean, overcome by the need to get him the fuck away before Sam did something he knew he was going to regret. The older Winchester stumbled back a couple of paces, shock clear on his face.

"Sam, what the - "

"Do you have any idea what you put me through?" Sam growled, voice deep and almost rabid. Dean raised his hands up in supplication, ghost of smile still playing on those full lips.

"Sam, I just -"

"Just what?! Just felt like grinding my heart into the floor for a little while? Just wanted to fuck around with my feelings?"

"Sam." Dean's eyes were soft and sad, and Sam just couldn't fucking take that. He needed Dean to get mad, to yell and defend himself, to shove Sam right back so they could throw their punches and leave this behind him. Dean couldn't back down, Sam would just have to push harder.

"No," he ground out through clenched teeth. Before he even had a plan, Sam had hold of the collar of Dean's jacket, shoving him hard, face first, into the brick wall. Dean got his hands up in time to keep himself from getting too scraped up, started to push away from the wall, but Sam's hand was right between his brother's shoulders, putting all of his weight into holding the shorter man still.

"You'll stay where I put you," he said, punctuating it with a rough bite to the nape of Dean's neck. The older man let out a startled cry, trying to flinch away. "You want to fuck with me? That's just fine, Dean. But I'm gonna fuck with you too."

Sam slid his free hand around Dean's body, knuckles scraping against the brick to leave stinging marks. He worked furiously at the fly of Dean's jeans, jerking them down just enough that Dean's already straining length popped free.

"Commando, huh?" he breathed into his brother's ear, feeling the shiver it sent through Dean's body, "Thought you were gonna be getting some after that little stunt?" His hand gripped harshly around Dean's cock, stroking it too rough to really feel good. Dean let out a pleading noise. "You better get used to a hand around your dick, Dean, because you won't be going anywhere near my ass for a long while."

"S-Sam," Dean gasped, swallowing heavily. Sam could feel every sharp, fast breath his brother was taking through the hand he still had splayed on Dean's back, could feel the rough trip of his pulse through the hardened flesh in his palm. Dean might be pissed off or freaked out, but a part of him was definitely enjoying the ride. For some reason that just pissed Sam off even more.

He tightened his grip and worked his brother's cock harder, adding an extra twist at the end like he knew Dean liked. The older Winchester whimpered against the bricks, hips pumping into Sam's grasp almost unwillingly.

"You wanna come?" he panted, his own erection growing increasingly painful in the confines of his jeans. Ok, maybe Dean wasn't the only one enjoying this.

"Yes," Dean shuddered, the note of pleading clear in his voice, "God, fuck, yes, Sammy."

Sam stopped his stroking and shoved against Dean's shoulders, grinding the smaller man’s cheek into the wall.

"Don't call me that! Not now, Dean."

He ground his trapped cock hard against his big brother's ass, hand picking back up its vicious pace on Dean's dick.

"You sure you want this, Dean?" Sam asked again, as if there was any chance his brother was going to stop when he was so obviously close to the edge, "'Cause if you come, I'm gonna get to come too, and I don't think you’re gonna like that."

Maybe Dean didn't hear the warning in Sam's voice or maybe he was too far gone to care, but it didn't really matter when he panted 'yes' again because Sam had already decided that he wasn't going to stop either way.

The hot spill of fluid over Sam's hand had Dean pawing at the wall, crying out hoarsely into the empty night air. Sam leaned his chest against Dean's back, freeing up his clean hand to get his jeans open and pull his brother's down further to expose that smooth, perfect ass.

Dean's desperate breaths were moving them both as Sam reached down and slicked up his cock with the mess Dean had spilled over his hand. It felt warm and slick and so damn good on his ignored length that Sam had to tear himself away from just jacking off. He wanted Dean to feel this for a week, remember every time he sat down why he shouldn't push his little brother.

Two sticky, cooling fingers slid into Dean's ass without preamble and the older man's whole body jerked at the intrusion. Sam scissored and twisted them in that sweet heat, striking randomly at the bundle of nerves inside that had Dean bucking and squirming between Sam's weight and the brick. He added a third quickly and kept it inside barely long enough to have made a difference before he lined up his cock.

Dean's hands slammed flat to the wall as Sam shoved in all the way to the hilt. His brother was making pained little sounds in his throat and the part of Sam that knew he was going to feel miserable about this for weeks forced him to wait and just hold inside until Dean's body adjusted. His balls were screaming at him to move and despite the temperature, he had to duck his head and wipe away the sweat beading on his brow with the shoulder of Dean's jacket.

At last he felt some of the gritty tension around his dick ease and that was the end of what Sam was now tenuously referring to as his control. He pulled out until only the tip was inside then slammed home again, eyes rolling back in his head at the sweet, burning pleasure licking up his spine.

The hand Dean had come on was getting cold in the air and Sam moved to wipe it off on his brother's pants before a better idea struck him. He thrust the hand up into the meager space Dean had made between himself and the wall, holding it in front of his brother's face.

"Clean it," he grunted, tightening the grip of his other hand as he pounded inside again. Dean let out a noise Sam didn't have the brainpower to decipher before attacking Sam's hand with his mouth, licking away the traces of his orgasm like it was his sole purpose in life.

Sam's face was pressed tight into the crook of his brother's neck, breathing in the scent of leather and sweat, overheated skin and gunpowder and come. Dean. His tongue flicked out, gathering the taste of his brother even as Dean's own was paying loving, hungry attention to the task Sam had set. Despite it all, despite this stupid fucked up night, he loved Dean more than anything, would do anything for him, needed him in a way that scared the hell out of Sam sometimes.

Hard breaths of warm, Dean-scented air were ripping through his chest, molten need pounding down his nerves. The tight, undulating heat of Dean's body was drawing him close to climax, the warm wet suck of Dean's mouth around his fingers overloading Sam's system until he couldn't feel anything but his brother. He worked his hips hard desperate, release smoldering at the base of his cock until finally he just couldn't take it anymore.

White starbursts filled his vision as his body spasmed against his brother, the warmth of his own slick coating Dean's insides.

Sam came down whispering his brother's name into the hollow behind his ear. He held Dean tight, reveling in the rhythm of his brother’s heartbeat under the hand he'd pressed across Dean's chest.

"Thank you," Dean panted after a minute, shifting slightly against the wall holding them upright.

"What?" Sam asked blearily, not moving his face from its warm spot against Dean's neck.

"Thank you for my present."

"What?" Sam repeated, meaning finally latching on to Dean's words, "But I didn't... You said you didn't want to..."

Dean let loose a deep chuckle and it vibrated all the way through Sam's spent cock still inside, his eyes rolling back in his head again at the sensation.

Carefully he pulled out, not missing Dean's wince, but too preoccupied trying to understand what was happening to bother about it now; Dean had brought it on himself anyway. The older Winchester pulled his jeans up, tucking his almost certainly raw dick in gently. He turned and leaned his back lazily against the wall, looking fucked out and thoroughly satisfied and way too damn hot for his own good.

"I told you," Dean purred, "I like it when you take charge. Didn't figure you'd do it right if I just asked."

Sam's brain screeched to a thundering halt. So all of this? The whole thing had been...

Dean pulled him in hard, bringing their bodies back together even though it made the older man flinch again. Maybe Sam had been a little rougher than he meant to. Dean took his mouth, kissed him slow and deep with a little roll to his hips that had Sam moaning.

"Quit thinking so hard," he murmured against Sam's lips, "It's exactly what I wanted." One last light, sweet kiss and Dean was pushing him back just a little, helping tuck Sam back into his pants too.

"And now you've got four whole months to figure out what you want for YOUR birthday, Sammy," Dean grinned, giving a little tug on Sam's wrist as he walked around the side of the building to find the car.

Sam smiled to himself in the dark, heat rapidly pooling again in his groin. This could be a very good tradition.


End file.
